I Knew It
by SlytherinFlame
Summary: Lauren Rhee is a Slytherin who has always wanted to be a Gryffindor for two reasons. One, idiots like Draco Malfoy and company give the serpents a rotten reputation and, secondly, Oliver Wood. Slightly Fluffy. Oliver Wood/OC.


It didn't work out last time. So why was I finding myself dreaming about a certain blond Quidditch player? Why did that smile make me want to hyperventilate? It's not like he cares about anything besides keeping anyway.

Well, actually I should be more specific when I talk Quidditch players, seeing as I am one. I'm Lauren Rhee. I'm the first girl Chaser to be on the Slytherin House Team. As a result, all the other guys hit on me. That includes one Draco Malfoy, who makes me want to rip my hair out every time he talks to me.

Anyway, I'm talking about Oliver Wood. The Oliver Wood. You know, the guy who cares more about handling a Quaffle than school, family and friends, girls, and...breathing? That's the one.

What was wrong with me? Like I said, it didn't work out last time. As a unit, meaning boyfriend and girlfriend, we lasted all of one week. Oliver told me that it wasn't a good idea, and I would probably get hurt because he was so competitive in Quidditch. Yeah, that was total bullshit. I'm twice as competitive as anybody I know. I could take him down anyway. I've never lost a fight.

"Hey, Rhee!" calls Draco from across the corridor, smiling to his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. They look like gorillas and Draco looks like a ferret. None of them are attractive, or really have anything going for them, much like every other boy in Slytherin. This is why all my friends are Gryffindors...

"What the hell do you want Malfoy?" I shout back. I humor him.

"How feisty..." he says and Crabbe and Goyle guffaw obnoxiously. Then he adds, "But would you like to go on a date with me, Rhee?"

I roll my eyes. "We've been through this so many times Draco. I. Hate. You. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to talk to people that can have an intelligent conversation..."

Malfoy's face reddens and he says, "Go on then, filthy mudblood."

That makes me angry. I hate it when purebloods use the insult "mudblood" to anyone. Ancestry means next to nothing. "Don't say that word, you bloody idiot. I'm a pureblood anyway."

Then, as usual, I storm off in a huff. I can't control myself at this point. Draco looks smug, which makes me want to punch his face in.

As I trudge up the steps, Lee notices me. Instead of being his usual relentlessly funny self, he actually cares.

See, I have this thing about Gryffindors. I always wished I was one of them. Unfortunately, I am a pureblood, and I want to be a famous Quidditch player when I grow up. Ambition? Probably... Whatever.

The Gryffindors I like best are Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins, Alicia Spinnet, and...I guess you could say Oliver. I haven't really figured that one out yet.

"Are you alright, Lauren?" he asks, looking genuinely concerned. he puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me.

I shrug him off. "It's nothing," I say. I don't want to be upset in front of other people; it's always felt like a weakness.

"Don't be tough. Spit it out," he demands, "Is it another Quidditch injury?"

I almost laugh. It feels so ridiculous. "Of course not. Don't worry. I'm fine."

Lee looks me hard in the face for a while, looking for even a hint of dishonesty, but then sighs and looks away for a while. I don't move.

Suddenly, he smiles and it's one of those mischievous smiles. I now know he's up to something. "Did you hear the rumor?" he asks.

Rumor? Uh oh. This can't be good. I press on, "What are you talking about?"

"Curious, are you? Nah, I don't think I'll tell you."

Thanks to him, now I'm curious. "Tell me!" I plead.

"No, I just ate."

Now I'm angry and confused. "Lee!"

"Fine, fine. Are you sure you-"

"Tell me, dammit!"

"Okay, okay, calm your cauldron. It's about Oliver Wood."

Do I usually care about rumors? Not really. Do I care now? Yes. You have absolutely no idea. Everything that involves Oliver is different. That's just the way life goes.

"Go on..."

"Okay. Well, rumor has it that he likes somebody and it's not Gwenog Jones..."

I snort. "Gwenog. She has at least six years on him."

Lee made a face. "It was a joke. Anyway, the scandalous part of it is that it's not a Gryffindor. And you know how obsessed Oliver is with his House in the Quidditch Cup..."

I could feel my eyes go wide. "You're kidding me!"

"This time, I'm not. That's real news."

Now, I'm done with this conversation. I have to go into a corner and ponder over who this girl could possibly be.

It's got to be someone pretty and she's got to play Quidditch. It could be that Ravenclaw, Cho Chang, but I've heard she loves Cedric. That's not exactly surprising. It could be Davies' little sister, the one that's on the Hufflepuff team, but she was kind of annoying. Plus she was a beater. Beaters don't make for pretty girls...

I was thinking so hard that I didn't notice the footsteps behind me.

"Lauren?"

"Yes?" My automatic response.

"Lauren...can I talk to you?" I recognized that voice. It was awkward and masculine. Could it be...?

My heart stopped all of a sudden. "Uh...sure?"

Uh...sure? Like I didn't know? Get a grip, Lauren. It's just a boy. A boy who breaks his promises. A very attractive boy who is amazing at Quidditch and has this way of looking at you...but still breaks his promises.

"Okay then. So, I've been thinking..." he was trailing off as usual. Either he never has complete thoughts or he finds his voice embarrassing...or both. It was getting on my nerves.

"Good to see you've been doing that. It doesn't seem to happen often!" I snap.

That takes him by surprise, and then he grimaces. "Honestly, I can't blame you for being angry at me. I'd be angry at me too."

That ticks me off even more. "Is that all?" I start tapping my foot dramatically, "I haven't got all day!" Poor kid, I was really going all out on him. I couldn't help myself.

Oliver looks hurt for a while, but finally composes himself. "Just listen to what I've got to say?"

I back off a bit. "Fine. Speak."

He sighs and then continues as if what he's saying is causing him physical pain. "As I said...I've been thinking, and been thinking that I'm thinking the right way. You know, with last time..." He flinches. "That didn't work out, but I have a feeling that... Well, don't judge me here if you don't agree. I mean, you're a great girl. And I'm, well, I'm a-a...uh..."

I finish his sentence for him. "A dishonest, bloody wanker."

He glares at me until I stop smiling triumphantly. "If you'll let me continue..."

"Get to the point," I command him.

"Fine. Do you want to try again? I mean, be a couple?" He holds his breath, bracing himself for a cynical reply.

I deeply consider my answer. As tempting as it is to blow him off with a sarcastic reply, I knew I would feel bad about it later. "I don't know. Last time was far from working out..." I sit on the floor. Not thinking, not talking, just sitting.

Oliver decides to sit next to me. "It will work out this time, Lauren. Last year I was an immature prat. I've changed this year. I'm different, I swear."

Now it was my turn to glare at him. "You swear huh? Gonna break some more promises now? That's what you're good at."

Oliver doesn't say anything, but keeps his offer out. I put my face in my hands. To think, I was anticipating this just fifteen minutes prior and now I wanted nothing more than to tear him apart from the inside out. I wanted to see him cry. I wanted him to show me that he did really feel remorse.

He spoke again, clearly noticing that I wasn't about to talk. "I would never hurt you on purpose, Lauren. I like you."

I froze. What did he say? It must have been a lie. It couldn't have possibly been true. Do my ears deceive me?

He smiled one of his wide, heart-stopping smiles and flipped his hair out of his eyes. "I do. I mean it. I think you feel the same way, too. You just won't admit it."

I couldn't think of anything else to say except for, "You're right." So I said it.

"I knew it," Oliver chuckles, grabbing my hand and interlocking our fingers. They fit together perfectly, like they were meant to be.

Don't get your hopes up, Lauren, I always tell myself. You'll only be disappointed at the finish.

But this time, a small instinct tells me this could be the one.


End file.
